Monday, December 01, 2008

The Vanquishing of the House Squirrel

‘Twas the Sunday after Thanksgiving, a cold and windy dayThe family was unpacking from a festive trip awayThe high lord of the manor, Son of Wilkin, a mighty ScotPrepared to venture out to see what provisions could be got

Son of Wilkin rode his mighty steed, a red and sturdy chargerTexas-born and Jersey-trained, strong as an ox, but largerAcross the hills and dales they ranged, through wet and periled wayAt the village farm of K. Rogers, they found and slew their prey

The hero left behind to hold the house intactThe lady of the house, a Commodore in factA brave and noble lass, beautiful as wellYet unprepared to face the impending squirrel hell

Staying with the dame, two bairns were hidden lowIn the depths of the castle, entranced by picture showsThe innocents were practiced in the art of rodent careBut had yet to face a battle with a furry fusilier

Unknown to all the innocents, both at the home and farA furry interloper has conspired to go to warWhile the family was traveling to visit relatives respectedA squirrel had surreptitiously found an entry unprotected

In the chimney of the banquet hall, the rodent found a holeSneaking past the guards, alerting not a soulThe creature crept unseen just above the fire grateAnd upon the flimsy flue, he built a nest to wait

The lurker’s plans were nearly foiled by the cold and wintery weatherAs the hero built a roaring fire of poplar and of heatherBut the evil rodent suffered the fire, awaiting the hero’s leavingFor demons from the depths of hell have no fear of fire breathing

Biding its time, the monster lurked above the roaring flamesWatching the lady and the children, playing Yuletide gamesWhen all had left the hall, and the fire was unattendedThe toothy desperado, from his hiding place descended

With the speed derived from magic of the place we dare not mentionThe squirrel crossed the flames and headed for the manor kitchenBlacked whiskers were the only clue from whence he had descendedScorches on his feet and paws were miraculously mended

Neither victuals nor victims did the treetop horror findSo to the living quarters did the evildoer windThe lady of the house he found, wrapping Yuletide presentsAnd he crept upon her quietly, so to conceal his presence

But the lady was quite clever, and her hearing quite acuteAnd she heard the evildoer as he travelled on his routeTurning with a jerk, her cutting tools displayedShe presented to the rodent a future being filleted

So startled was the enemy that he paused in his malevolenceAnd backed into a open privy due to its convenienceThe lady of the castle, espying an advantageClosed the door behind the rogue, sealing in the savage

The monster railed and howled, shaking the foundationsInterrupting the heirs’ attempts at homework procrastinationsBut the door was sturdy maple, designed for much abusingAnd the beast settled down to wait for an opportunity of its choosing

Moments passed, the house in fear of how the battle would concludeWhen from the east the lord returned to greet his loving broodThe words he heard on entering the castles stately hall“There’s a squirrel in the house”, a truly dreadful call

The master donned his gloves of steel, his cloak of iron he woreHis boots of leather and, of course, his hat of ancient loreFrom deep within the armory he found the squirrel destroyerA weapon much more powerful than even the castle lawyer

With his family in support, our hero approached the doorOpened up the door and took pictures of “before”Then with a prayer to Odin for strength of will and brawnSon of Wilk entered the room, prepared to fight ‘til dawn

They circled one another, the monster and his foeOutside there was much crying, mournful calls of heartfelt woeFor the children were bewitched by the squirrel’s beady eyesBy his fuzzy little tail and eloquently tailored lies

“I’m just like your little hamsters”, the squirrel had whispered to them“Like your mice and guinea pigs, far too cute to be condemned”“Listen not!” roared our hero “to these lies perfidious!”“This is a monster monstrous foul, and here to murder us!”

The battle raged o’er countertops and in and out of tubsThe earth was rended by the force, breaking trees, uprooting shrubsAt last the beast was cornered, worn down, too tired to fightAnd the hero braced himself to give the final blow for right

Yet, the hero was not hardened to the cries of his own progenyThe creature was not to blame, he thought, for its demon-bred phylogenyAnd rather than delivering the final crushing blowThe hero caught the beast instead and tossed it out into the snow

The evil squirrel, its spirit broke, retreated far from sightN’er to return to menace us, no more to here alightThe hero welcomed cheers of joy from the lady and her wardsHe stored away his squirrel bow, his arrows and his swords

The fight was won, the town rejoiced, the hero took his bowHis weapons stored, his armor cleaned, the castle safe for nowBut the hero’s thoughts were grave even as his body was to mendWhere there’s one, there are some more … this is not the end

2 comments:

Thank you very much. I am always amazed when people actually read obscure blog postings ... and then take the time to leave a comment. It validates my existence in ways unimaginable. Truly you have bettered the world to a level beyond measure.

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